Sides
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: "Darling, I think we've picked the wrong side.":: Or in which Daphne hates the way the Death Eaters run Hogwarts and Blaise pretends not to notice.


**A/N: For the 19,000 Prompts Challenge (traitor)**

Daphne leans against the tree, a lit cigarette dangling from her lips, her dark eyes fixed upon the lake.

"Since when did you smoke?" Blaise asks, folding his arms over his chest, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

She doesn't even look at him. For a moment, she doesn't even speak, and Blaise wonders if he'd spoken too softly. But then she plucks the cigarette from her lips, flicking the filter with her thumbnail and sending ashes falling to the ground. "Since everything went to hell," she answers simply, her gaze still upon the dark, still water.

Blaise frowns, glancing over his shoulder. "Better not let anyone hear you talk like that," he says quietly. "You're a Slytherin. You should be happy with what's going on."

She laughs dryly, no humor in the sound. "I should, huh? I watched a first year get tortured today," she says, shaking her head and taking a deep drag from the cigarette. "Should I be happy with that?"

"The Carrows wouldn't have punished him without reason."

Another laugh, another drag. "I thought you were different, Blaise," she says, letting the cigarette fall to the ground and crushing it beneath her trainers. "Now, I'm not so sure."

"I have to stay alive, just like everyone else," he says sharply. "Pardon me for preferring to save my own skin."

Now, she does look at him, and Blaise almost wishes she hadn't. He's never seen her look so... He can't quite place the emotion on her face. Angry, sad, stormy. Whatever the word, it frightens him. "Maybe you're a little too Slytherin," she says.

"And maybe you're not Slytherin enough."

She opens her mouth like she's ready to snap at him. But then she just clenches her jaw and shakes her head, pushing past him.

Blaise scowls after her for several seconds before turning his attention to the lake, silently fuming.

..

"Now, Zabini," Alecto Carrow says.

Blaise holds his wand in his trembling hands, looking down at Susan Bones. In theory, curses are just fine. But practical application... His stomach grows acidic.

"Now," Carrow repeats. "Unless you'd rather take her place."

Beside him, Goyle laughs. Blaise grits his teeth, cheeks burning with angry embarrassment.

"Crucio," he says, and the Hufflepuff screams.

"Again," the Death Eater instructs.

"Crucio!"

Another scream. Susan writhes, limbs contorting at ghastly angles. The human body should be capable of bending that way.

"Good," Carrow says, patting his shoulder. "Up you get, girl. Let this be a lesson to you."

When class is dismissed, Blaise rushes to the toilets as fast as his legs will carry him. He no longer cares about his dignity. He hovers over the porcelain bowl, throwing up everything in his stomach.

..

"It doesn't change anything," he says firmly. "You might have had a change of heart, but that doesn't mean that I have."

Daphne raises her brows. "I didn't suggest that you have," she mutters. "Must really be bothering you if you felt the need to say it."

He glares, scrubbing his hands over the back of his neck. "I'm not bothered by it," he snaps. "She had it coming. She was caught breaking the rules. I did what I had to do."

Daphne mumbles something under her breath, too low for him to understand.

"What was that?"

She smiles a half-smile. "Nothing, Blaise. Nothing at all."

..

He watches Crabbe and Goyle torture a second year Ravenclaw.

He just watches. Doesn't act.

..

"Crucio!"

Somehow, the curse has become easier. It rolls right off his tongue without any hesitation.

"Crucio!"

Amycus Carrow grins up at him over the third year's limp body. "You could be useful, Zabini," he says proudly.

Blaise nods. "Thank you, sir."

..

Daphne sits on the ledge of the Astronomy Tower, blowing smoke rings absently. Blaise sits beside her, a frown on his lips.

She doesn't look well. Her skin is too pale, eyes rimmed with dark circles. He wonders when's the last time she's slept.

"Darling, I think we picked the wrong side," she whispers with a sideways glance in his direction.

"What changed you?" he asks.

She smiles, a bitter little twist of her lips. "The same things that are changing you."

He shakes his head, dark eyes forward, resting upon the dark horizon. "Nothing has changed me."

She laughs, and Blaise thinks that he's tired of hearing the humorless sound. He misses her real laugh, the light, airy chime that had once passed her lips.

..

"The Carrows wanna see you," Crabbe grunts.

Blaise tips his head to the side, confused. "What for?"

Crabbe and Goyle both shrug by way of an answer.

Hesitantly, Blaise climbs to his feet. A personal invitation from the Carrows can't be good news, but he knows better than to ignore a summons.

He follows his two Housemates out of the common room and into the corridor, his mind racing.

He hasn't done anything wrong. He knows this, knows that he shouldn't worry. But something knots his stomach and turns his insides cold. Fear tugs at his heart, causing it to beat rapidly, almost painfully in his chest.

He knows not to show fear. It's one of the few things his second stepfather had taught him. "Keep your head high and your shoulders set, boy. Never let them see you shake."

He follows these orders as he is lead into Amycus Carrow's office.

"Zabini, nice of you to join us," Amycus says. "Crabbe, Goyle, you can leave now."

The other two boys exchange disappointed looks before slumping out.

"May I ask what this is about, Professors?" Blaise asks, his tone bored, shifting his gaze back and forth between the brother and sister. "I do have quite a bit of studying to do, so I hope it's important."

Alecto lets out a soft growl. "If you weren't a Slytherin, you'd be punished for that cheek," she says. "Consider yourself lucky."

"Oh, I do," he assures her, forcing a smile.

"You know, Zabini, we were a bit worried about you," Amycus informs him, gesturing for Blaise to take a seat.

"Worried, sir?" Blaise asks, sitting in the lumpy, uncomfortable armchair across from the siblings.

"Worried," Alecto repeats. "Your mother was always so grey. Never really knew where she her loyalties lay."

Blaise shifts nervously, nodding. He doesn't like where this is going already, and he certainly doesn't like their bringing his mother into whatever this is.

"You see," Amycus continues, "she always liked to play it safe. Never really devoted to one cause or another. Only interested in saving her own skin."

"Such worthy Slytherin qualities, but you can see why this is a problem, given the current state of our world," Alecto continues, perching herself on the armrest of her brother's chair.

"My mother's actions have nothing to do with me. I reckon you should take this up with her if you're so concerned."

Amycus shakes his head. "Our concern isn't about your mother. It was that, perhaps, you had inherited her little habit of keeping your head down. You couldn't even stomach punishing wrongdoers within this school."

Blaise remains stoic, but he's screaming inside. Under any other circumstances, he'd be praised for not having the heart to torture small children. But here, it's call for concern.

"But," the male Death Eater continues, "something changed in you. You follow orders so well now, Blaise. I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you, sir."

"I told you that you could be useful, Zabini. And here's your chance. We're putting together a little team. Only a select few have been chosen for this job."

"What sort of team?"

"A team that will be our eyes and ears within the school," Alecto answers. "We can't be everywhere at all times. We need students like you to help keep the others in line."

"Spies, you mean?"

"If that's what you want to call it. We prefer to think of it as ensuring that this school is run as it should be. There's too much doubt, too much rebellion. We can't have that, can we?" Amycus presses, a sick smile on his face.

Blaise nods.

"Excellent, my boy. Excellent."

..

"Why were you talking to that Weasley girl?"

Daphne rolls her eyes. "Why were you spying on me?"

"I-I wasn't spying! That's ridiculous."

She pushes a hand through her hair, letting out a sigh.

"It's just, you know she's bad news. You know her family. Do you think it's wise to be mixing with her type?" he asks.

"Bad news. I wonder how many people say the same about us."

Blaise scowls. "Answer my question."

"You're my ex-boyfriend, Blaise, not my father. I don't owe you any answers," she says curtly before pushing past him.

"It's like I don't even know you anymore!" he calls after.

"Maybe you never did."

..

"You look like hell, mate," Theo says, sitting across from him in the library.

"Thanks for noticing."

His friend offers him a crooked grin. "Any time. But, seriously, what's up?"

Blaise shakes his head, closing his book. "Do you ever feel like you're losing your mind?"

"Ah, Daphne again?"

"What? No. Not everything is about her."

"Then what?"

Blaise wrings his hands together, struggling to find the words to say. Would Theo understand? Would anyone? Somehow, he isn't so sure.

"It's nothing. I've got to go."

..

"Crucio!"

The fifth year screams again.

Blaise pockets his wand, satisfied with the result. "Be glad I don't report you to the Carrows," he says sharply. "Don't let this happen again."

The girl sobs loudly, and Blaise wonders if she's even heard him.

..

"I overheard Romilda Vane and Xander Hills discussing a meeting," Hector Yaxley reports. "They seemed keen not to be heard, so I reckon it's important."

"The MacMillan boy was acting weird," Crabbe says. "Kept walking past that wall. The one that becomes that room. But then he left when he saw me."

"Zabini?"

Blaise looks up, and all eyes are on him. He squirms.

"Have you seen anything?"

Blaise opens his mouth, only to close it again, lips pulled into a tight line.

"Zabini?" Amycus Carrow says again. "It looks like you have something to tell us."

"Nothing, Professor," he says quietly.

"Very well. Higgins?"

"It turns out even our own House can't be trusted in these times," Higgins says, leaning closer, his beady little eyes glistening.

Blaise swallows dryly.

"You see, I discovered we have a blood traitor in our midst."

..

Blaise runs as fast as he can, fighting against the strain in his chest and legs. He has to find her, has to warn her somehow.

"Have you seen Daphne?"

Astoria shakes her head.

"Dammit."

"Oi! What's got your wand in a knot?" the younger girl asks, but Blaise is already gone.

..

When he finds her, it isn't pretty. She's a crumpled pile of skin and clothing, curled up and trembling on the staircase. He's vaguely aware of voices as he passes through the crowd.

"Heard she was trying to help."

"A Slytherin! Can you believe it?"

"Dumbledore would never let this happen."

"Serves the traitor right, mixing with the Weasley girl."

Blaise picks her up as carefully as he can, kissing her pale cheek. "It's okay, Daphne," he whispers. "I've got you."

..

Madam Pomfrey does what she can, but she meets Blaise with a grim expression when she finishes the latest treatment. "Only so much I can do," she reports. "Dark magic can leave damage that's harder- if not impossible- to repair."

He holds Daphne's hand, thumb moving over her knuckles gently. "But you can fix her, can't you?" he asks, eyes flickering towards the girl on the bed, lying still and staring up at the ceiling with wide, blank eyes.

"I've done what I could," Pomfrey sighs. "It'll be up to the Healers at St Mungo's now."

..

He kisses her cheek. She doesn't respond.

"You were right," he whispers, pulling away. "We did pick the wrong side."

He gives her hand one final squeeze before climbing to his feet and allowing Astoria to take his place.

..

"What do you want, Zabini?" Ginny Weasley asks, folding her arms over her chest and watching him through narrowed eyes.

"I want to join you."

"And why would you want that?"

He looks down at his feet.

"Oh," Ginny says. "Daphne was your... Right. Are you sure about this?"

He thinks of Daphne, frail and pale, unresponsive. He thinks of the cigarettes tucked between her lips, of how she'd looked like she was falling apart.

"I've never been more sure."


End file.
